


Deliver Me From Evil

by lollipopbirdie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-26
Updated: 2014-09-26
Packaged: 2018-02-18 20:04:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2360561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lollipopbirdie/pseuds/lollipopbirdie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Team Free Will has been on a demon hunt for two weeks, which, in Dean's opinion, is too damn long. Finally, they get their first big lead and the trio dives in head first. But when Cas' anxiety about hunting demons gets the better of him, he makes on seemingly fatal mistake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Deliver Me From Evil

"Dean, I got somethin'." Dean Winchester is pulled away from the newest episode of Dr. Sexy, M.D. when Sam calls to him using his researcher voice. Or as Dean likes to call it, his I-went-to-college-and-I-do-better-research-than-you voice. He gets up from the couch reluctantly and sets down his beer, taking one last glance at the television. Dr. Sexy had an affair with a new nurse at Seattle Mercy Hospital and his fiancé was about to find out. He makes mental note to get Sam back for making him miss it.

"What's up, Sammy?" he calls back.

As soon as Dean steps out of the room, Cas relaxes back into his chair, relieved that he can take his eyes off of the screen. Dean talked in him into watching the show with him and, even though he finds it dull and uninteresting, he'd been intently focusing on it for the last hour. He didn't want to hurt Dean's feelings.

In the other room, Sam turns his laptop towards his brother.

"Bobby just sent me the demon radar from our area." Dean squints at the screen. Small red dots sporadically cover the map, all surrounding one big, red cluster.

"Well that's new. So 42nd and Cordell is where we wanna hit?"

"I guess so. It's the best lead we've had in this case." Two weeks ago, Bobby had called them up, asking them to go check out a few demonic possessions in a small town in Ohio. It turned out there'd been more than a few. More like ten. They still had no idea why there were so many demons in one place, and eventually decided that demons are destructive bastards and will wreak havoc whenever and wherever they choose. But even after interviewing everyone that seemed connected to the possessions, they had no leads on where to find them, until now.

"But get this," Sam continues, "all that's at the address is a huge abandoned office building. Apparently part of it was destroyed in some sort of gas line explosion in 1990 and no one ever bothered to knock it down. It's practically in the middle of nowhere now 'cause the city was built up pretty far from it."

"They're using is as a fortress, you think?"

"I guess so," Sam replies, semi-impressed with the demons choice of a hideout. "So what's our plan of attack, Captain?" he says mockingly to his older brother.

"We ride at dawn!" Dean yells triumphantly, thrusting his fist in the air and turning back to his soap opera. Sam just laughs and shakes his head at his nerd of a brother.

In the front room, Dean's face falls when he sees that the credits are already rolling. He turns to Cas, who's still sitting in his chair.

"If you tell me what happened, I swear to God I will kick your former feathery ass all the way to Seattle Mercy Hospital." Sam laughs so hard he had to close his computer, which makes Dean's face break out in a grin, ruining his tough-guy demeanor. Cas only squints at him and cocks his head to the side.

"But, Dean, Seattle Mercy Hospital is a fictional setting. It would be physically impossible to kick me there." Dean rolls his eyes dramatically.

"It's just an expression, buddy."

"Oh…" He laughs softly and walks back to his seat, taking a long, final drag of his beer and collapsing onto the couch. As he flings his arm over his eyes to block out the light, Cas speaks up again.

"And, just to remind you, my 'feathery ass' is no longer feathery." Dean can't help but grin.

A few months ago, Cas lost his grace. Apparently, defying heaven and borrowing Dean's choice words of 'feathery headed dicks' to use as an insult when the other angels told him he was getting to close to humans was enough to get him thrown out. He'd taken it really hard at first, and Dean is glad he's recovered enough to be able to joke about it.

"That's why I said former," he retorts. When he gets no reply, he uncovers his eyes to see Cas staring down at his hands and smiling to himself. Dean's pleased to see him happy and back to normal. Actually, he's more than pleased. He's overjoyed to have his Cas back.

Closing his eyes, he readjusts his position on the couch and mumbles, "'Night, Cas."

"Goodnight, Dean."

He falls asleep with a smile on his face.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cas smiles softly up at him and wraps his arms around his neck. Dean bends down and kisses his jaw gently, his lips trailing down to his bare neck and shoulder.

"Dean…" Cas murmurs softly.

"Mm hm?" Dean lifts his head to kiss Cas' cheek softly and runs his fingers through his hair.

"Dean…" Cas says again, louder than before.

"What is it?" He draws away to look at his angel, but, suddenly, Cas began to fade away. Dean panics as Cas slowly disappears but before he can cry out, he opens his eyes to darkness.

Damn, another one of those dreams? He thinks to himself.

He knows that he and Cas have always had a strong relationship, a "profound bond" as Cas puts it, but ever since the angel fell, his feelings for him have grown stronger. He started having these types dreams, ones that he'd usually only had about Ginger from Gilligan's Island. And as much as he tries to convince himself otherwise, he really likes them.

Dean sits up on the couch, stretching and hearing his joints pop as he does. He glances around and sees a little bit of light pouring through the closed blinds across the room, illuminating a figure curled up in the chair in front of it. Dean smiles to himself. Maybe he'd tell Cas how he feels someday. But that's a huge maybe.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Up 'n at 'em, Sammy!" Sam squints and groans as he's woken by his brother shouting in his ear.

"Wha' time is it?" he asks sleepily.

"Time to gank some demon ass!" Blinking hard and running his hands through his hair, Sam looks down and realizes he fell asleep at his computer. Again. A paper plate covered in a crusty, yellow substance lands on his keyboard a few seconds later. He looks up, confused, and sees Dean smirking down at him.

"Breakfast of champions," he explains, handing him a fork. "Eat up!" Sam glances down at the plate and his stomach clenches. What looks like overcooked eggs are clumped on it, dry, flaky, and brown in a few spots.

"Dude, did you microwave these?" Dean shrugs.

"Couldn't find a pan to use." Before Sam takes a bite, the third person in their trio walks into the room.

"Eggs?" Cas stand in the doorway, blanket wrapped around his shoulders. His hair sticks up, more so than usual, and he squints hard at the light. Dean beams at him.

"'Mornin', sleepy head." Cas grunts in reply, obviously unhappy with the rude awakening, and walks over to the table, pulling up a chair across from Sam. Within seconds, there's a plate identical to his in front of him. Sam's stomach grumbles, prompting him to finally take a bite. He almost gags as he swallows.

"Holy crap, these are disgusting." Dean glares at him.

"Then next time, you get up at the crack of dawn and make breakfast," he retorts through a mouthful of egg.

"I like them, Dean," Cas says, sleep still laced through his voice. Dean swallows and grins.

"At least someone around here appreciates me." He shoots another look at Sam.

"Jerk," he mumbles, smiling.

"Bitch," Dean replies, turning back to his breakfast.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When they're all full of overcooked egg, Dean fills in Cas on the plan.

"Wait, how many demons?"

"Oh, ten, maybe fifteen at the most." Cas swallows hard, nervousness creeping up inside of him.

"Maybe I should just stay here…" he suggests quietly. Within a week of his fall, Dean started training Cas to be a hunter, but he'd barely been on any hunts so far. Recently, Dean started to become unwilling to let him stay back at the motel while he and Sam killed whatever monster they had hunted down.

"No way," he replied sternly. "You're coming with us." Wringing his hands, Cas nods slowly, and Dean immediately feels guilty.

"Cas, you'll do fine," he adds, clapping him on the shoulder. "I've got your back the whole time, okay?" Cas glances up and his heart skips a beat when he sees Dean grinning down at him. He nods again and Dean gets up, walking away from the table. Cas looks after him, studying the way he saunters when he's in a good mood, completely transfixed. Ever since becoming human, the feelings he had for Dean before blossomed, well, more like exploded into something much greater. Cas just isn't sure what. It's definitely a much deeper physical attraction, given that he is now fully human, but there's something else that he can't quite put into words. He doesn't yet have enough experience with human emotions to know that it's love.

A half hour later, Dean is sitting at the kitchen table, loading and unloading the Colt while waiting for the other men. Cas insisted on taking a shower before they left. The hot water calms his nerves like nothing else and Dean, knowing how nervous he is about his first demon hunt, let him.

The water shut off, and Dean glanced up seconds later when the door opened. What he saw took his breath away. Cas walked out, bare chest still noticeably wet and Dean's old jeans riding low on his hips. He threw a towel over his head and dried his hair roughly as he stepped out into the kitchen. Dean couldn't help but stare. He had always considered their relationship platonic in the friendliest sense but at times like this, God damn, did he wish it wasn't.

But I'm not gay, he tells himself. I definitely love women. But I guess I do love pie… and sometimes a-a delicious piece 'a cake comes along and I just wanna… Cas' voice pulls him from his thoughts.

"Dean?" Blinking a few times, his face grows red when he realizes he'd been staring.

"Uh, sorry… What's up?" His words come out strained as he tries to hide his embarrassment. Cas gazes at him, confused for a moment, before continuing.

"Can I borrow one of your shirts?"

"Oh, yeah, of course!" Dean jumps up way too enthusiastically and walks out of the room, thankful for a chance to regain his composure. Seconds later, he tosses an old AC/DC t-shirt back to him, and Cas pulls it over his head.

"Thanks." Dean clears his throat and looks the man up and down. After all these months, he still finds pleasure in seeing Cas wear his clothes.

"No problem, buddy."

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The abandoned building at 42nd and Cordell is as eerie as it sounded, especially in the gray overcast of the morning. The front is covered with reflective glass that has been blown out in many places. From that angel, the damage to it is barely visible, but if anyone had stepped a couple paces in the right direction, they would see a huge, charred, and gaping hole where the rear parts of top floors should have been.

Out in the parking lot, Dean pops open the arsenal in the back of the Impala, propping up the hood. He hands a loaded rock salt shot gun to his brother.

"You got the gun?" Sam yanks aside the flap of his jacket, revealing the Colt tucked neatly into his jeans. Dean nods. Ruby's knife is already tucked away on him, ready to be used. As Sam grabs another knife, Dean picks up a second shotgun, cocking it so it's ready to be fired.

"Cas?"

Tearing his eye away from the lightning flashing in the distance, he turns to Dean, taking the gun with shaking hands.

"You got your angel blade?" He nods, letting the silver dagger fall from the sleeve of his trench coat into his free hand. Dean grins at him, trying to calm him down. It's extremely obvious how nervous Cas is.

"One more thing." He reaches into the pocket of his leather jacket and pulls out a silver charm hanging on a thin, red string. "Since you ain't got an anti-possession tattoo yet, wear this. It'll keep those bastards from getting to you."

"Thank you, Dean," he mumbled, taking the necklace. As soon as he does, thunder claps overhead, rattling the earth and rain begins to pour down. All three men are drenched in seconds. Dean quickly grabs a third shotgun and slams the trunk closed.

"Let's go!" he yells over the pounding rain. Sam and Dean stride ahead and Cas takes a shaky breath. He's never been a fan of thunderstorms and this one only adds to his nervousness. As anxiety claws at his insides and a thousand scenarios of his death run through his mind, he forgets what Dean told him and absentmindedly pockets the necklace, following the brothers into battle.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Inside the building is cold and damp and the smell of mildew and sulfur mixes in the heavy air. Dean steps in first, gun poised in case something is waiting. Sam follows him, and Cas is close behind. As the trio moves through the front hallway, they come to what looks like the remains of a lobby. Navy blue carpeting is torn in dozens of places and pieces of plastic chairs from behind the front desk are strewn about. To their right, a hallway stretches to the rest of the ground floor and to their left, a staircase leads to the upper floors.

"Sam, you take down here and me 'n Cas'll go up."

"Sounds good." Sam walks silently down the hallways with the colt held up, his finger on the trigger.

"Be careful, Sammy."

"Yeah, yeah," he answers nonchalantly, disappearing around the corner. Dean smirks and turns towards the stairway. Cas watches him, willing himself to move forwards, but his feet won't budge.

"Dean…" The hunter glances back when he hears a quiet voice call out. Sympathy courses through him when he sees Cas standing there, weapons in hand, frozen in absolute terror.

"It'll be fine," he responded, grabbing the arm of his trench coat and pulling him forward.

"You go in front," he insists, pushing his forward. "I can't risk you freezing up behind me again." He laughs softly, trying to lighten the mood, but Cas only gulps, eyes wide with fear. Finally, he starts moving forward.

"I don't get it," Dean wonders aloud as he follows the man up the stairs. "Why are you so afraid of demons? You fought a shit load of them as an angel." Cas frowned, not sure how to answer him.

"I-I guess I just feel more vulnerable without my angelic powers. Now I'm just a-"

"A meat suit?" Dean finished, smirking.

"Well, in your terms, yes." The hunter chuckled softly.

"You've got no reason to worry. I taught you everything I know and-" His sentence was cut short by a door slamming behind them. A black-eyed man stormed through the door way and started taking the stairs two at a time. Dean immediately fires, hitting him square in the chest and the rock salt slows him down.

"Cas, go!" He races up the remaining stairs and watches as Dean barrels into the demon, disorienting it enough to plunge Ruby's knife into its chest. He pulls out the knife and rushes towards Cas, slamming the door to the second floor behind them.

"This way." Dean pulls him down the hallway on their left. The walls on either side of them are cracked and stained and most of the rooms that they pass have only the remains doors, if any at all. They turn another corner and come to a larger area, much like the one they had been in on the ground floor.

The two men only have a second to catch their breath before an office door is thrown open, revealing a small group of black eyed beasts. They charge and the hunters met them half way. Swinging hard at one of the demon's jaw, Dean catches it, knocking the man backwards before plunging the knife into his stomach. But before he can turn, he is kicked from behind and knocked forward in the corpse. Spinning around, a knee comes up hard into his chest, making him groan and bend over. A blow to the head knocks him back to his senses and he uses the momentum to do a full turn and come up swinging. He bashes the woman's chin backwards and sinks the knife into her neck. Blood spurts out of her mouth as she falls. Glancing around quickly, he sees Cas wrestling with a heavy set man on the other side of the room. And Cas is losing.

"Hey, Asshat!" he shouts as he rushes over, distracting the demon enough for Cas to shove him off. He starts to charge at Dean but, before he can take a step, Cas stabs the angel blade into his back. The man collapses next to a second demon Cas had already taken care of. That seems to be the last of them.

Both hunters are breathing hard and Dean can feel blood trickling down his temple. He glances at Cas. The anxiety in his eyes is gone, replaced with a vengeful fire Dean hasn't seen in a long time. Cas smiles triumphantly at him, relishing the adrenaline pumping through his veins, and Dean grins back.

"Nice job," he remarks, eyeing the demons lying on the floor. Cas opens his mouth to thank him, but is quickly cut off.

"Dean!" The older hunter's blood runs cold at the sound of his brother's voice. "Dean, help me!" The cry is strangled, laced with agony.

"Sam…" he whispers. Without another word, he sprints down the hallway, towards the voice.

"Dean, wait!" Cas calls out, racing after the hunter. Neither of them notice another demon stepping out of the room behind them, holding a jagged, bloodstained knife. The possessed woman's bloody face twists into a villainous smile. She steps over the corpses covering the floor and silently trails them.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

With each step, Dean's heart pumps harder. He knows it is Sam's voice he hears. The calls keep coming every few seconds and he shoots down the halls, following them. He focuses on the rhythm of his feet hitting the ground and his steady breathing because, if he doesn't, he knows that the worst possible scenarios will flood his mind. Within minutes, he comes to a door and hears another muffled shout from behind it. He flings it open, dashing in, and almost falls off the side of the building.

"Shit!" He plants his feet, skidding on the exposed concrete floor, and throws himself backwards. The wind is knocked out of him and he gasps, shutting his eyes and grimacing. When he opens them, the sight is startling. Instead of the ceiling that should have been there, there is only gray, cloudy sky.

What the hell? He thinks, and then remembers what Sam told him about the building being partially destroyed. Glancing around, it's obvious that the remains of the room are empty. He is sure that he heard Sam's calls from in here, but there's no way he could have left the room without being seen. And he would have been able to hear if Sam fell off the side, right? Dean grimaces the thought. Reluctantly, he stands and peeks over the ledge, letting out a breath when he sees that the wet ground below is clear.

Suddenly, the door behind him creaks open. He draws out his knife, but, before he can turn, he hears an all too familiar voice.

"Drop the knife or he dies." His breath catches in his throat. It couldn't be… "I said drop it!" Dean lowers the knife to the ground and turns slowly.

Standing in the doorway is Cas, holding a knife to his chest. When Dean's eyes land on him, his face contorts into a twisted, malicious smile. And his blue eyes turn black.

"No…" Dean gapes at the figure in front of him. This couldn't be happening. Not him. Not Cas. The demon's eyebrows turn up and it frowns dramatically.

"What, you don't like my new look?" It asks, glancing down at the vessel. "I think fallen angel suits me pretty well." Dean's blood boils.

"You son of a bitch," he growls, raising his rifle out of habit.

"Now, Dean, I wouldn't do that if I were you," the demon instructs condescendingly. "Remember who dies if you shoot me?" It takes a step forward and Dean raises the gun higher. The demon only shakes its head, laughing, and inches closer until the barrel of the rifle is pressing into Cas' chest. Dean is frozen in place, knowing that he won't pull the trigger.

"Oh, Dean…" The demon strokes his cheek, wearing a Cas-like expression that makes his chest ache. But a second later, it's gone, replaced by a vicious grin as it reaches down and grabs the gun from his limp hands. "This is going to be so much fun." The butt of the rifle swings up and cracks into Dean's skull, making his world go dark.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When his eyes blink open, the first thing he sees is Cas, turned away from him, clad in his wrinkled trench coat. Dean almost smiles, not remembering what had happened. But the rough ropes that bite his wrists and ankles when he attempts to move jog his memory. Anger flares within him and he glances around, an ache pulsing through his head. Concrete walls surround him in a small, seemingly empty room and frayed, navy carpeting covers the floor. The tarnished metal chair he's strapped to is crudely bolted down. He focuses back on the figure in front of him and suddenly comes to a realization. This situation shouldn't be possible.

"How did you do it?" His voice comes out scratchy and swollen with suppressed rage. The demon turns around slowly.

"Oh, great, you're awake," it replies, smiling tauntingly and flicking its eyes black. Dean ignores it.

"How? Cas had protection."

"You mean this?" It reaches into the pocket of the trench coat draws out the anti-possession necklace, pinching the red string between its thumb and fore finger. "Looks like your angel is a bit forgetful." It says, smirking and pocketing the charm again. Dean's jaw clenches. God dammit, Cas! The demon chuckles lightly and steps to the side, revealing a small table up pressed up against the wall. On it is Dean's gun and flask of holy water, Ruby's knife, and the demon's own blade, which it picks up slowly.

"It's funny really," it says, fingers running gently along the edge, "how one tiny mistake can make such a huge difference." The demon strides towards Dean and bends down in front of him, placing a hand to his chest and smirking smugly. "But I'm not complaining." Dean struggles against the ropes as it saunters around him, hand sliding over his shirt.

"Why don't you just kill me, you son of a bitch?" he grunts through clenched teeth. He's answered with silence and, after a few moments, a blade pressing into his neck. The demon bends down, lips poised next to Dean's right ear.

"Oh, Dean," it whispers softly, in a voice Dean wishes he could find comfort it, "you'll be rotting in this chair soon enough. But all the fun comes before you die." The knife is quickly removed from his neck. "And I've barely started enjoying myself." The demon withdrawals and walks back towards the table.

"Do you know how rare a situation like this is? Torturing two souls for the price of one? Not to mention them being the notorious Dean Winchester and his rebellious little pet." Dean looks down at the floor, trying to focus on anything but the words, and it laughs cruelly.

"It's a one-in-a-lifetime deal and I intend to make the most of it."

Apparently, Dean doesn't give it the reaction it's looking for, because in a split second, the demon is in front of him once more, yanking his head up by his short, blood matted hair.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you, bitch!" Its face is contorted in anger and Dean returns the glare, swallowing hard and biting back his words, not wanting to give it the satisfaction of an answer. After a second, the demon exhales slowly, features forming a smile that's noticeably tighter than before.

It turns away, laughing softly, but then spins around, fist flying up and connecting with the side of Dean's head. And the blows keep coming, to his temple, his jaw, his chin, his neck. He can do nothing but sit there, fuming silently, arms and legs straining against the bindings as he swallows his cries, not wanting to gratify the demon with a reaction. A final fist to his stomach makes him groan and slump over, crimson blood dripping out of his mouth onto his jeans. His vision swims as the demon lifts his head again.

"Don't worry, that was almost as painful for your boyfriend." Dean doesn't have enough energy to fight his comment. Warm, fresh blood slides slowly down the side of his face as he struggles to hold his head up. When he speaks, the swelling of his jaw makes the words slur.

"He can see this?"

"Why, of course! You didn't think I wouldn't invite our dear little Cassie to the party, did you?" The demon smirks and walks away, returning its focus to the table.

"Speaking of party goers, did you ever wonder what happened to your brother?" Dean curses himself for forgetting about Sam.

"What did you do to him, you bastard?"

"Me? Oh, I did nothing. I don't know about now, but the last time I saw him, he was perfectly fine." A small wave of relief ripples through him. If he's survived this long, Sammy is surely strong enough to fight the rest of his way out. Using what little strength he has left, Dean raises his head.

"Then how-?"

"How did I make it sound like he was dying a slow, agonizing death?" He grimaces at the thought. "I'm allowed to have my secrets, aren't I?" The demon turns its attention away from the weapons, chuckling, and Dean averts his eyes.

"Now, back to your boyfriend, my personal favorite topic of the night…" He tries to keep his interest from peaking at the mention of Cas, not sure if he wants to hear what's coming next. "It is true that's he can hear, feel, and see everything that's happening. Like this." The demon strides over and smacks Dean across the face. "He knows that it's his hands doing it. But the best part is that I can hear, feel, and see everything going on inside of him, too. And do you want to know what he's thinking?" Dean clenches his jaw, set on not giving an answer. The demon's hand flies up and grasps his throat, fingers digging into the soft skin under his chin.

"Answer me, bitch!" When his vision starts to blacken, he nods reluctantly and is released. Sucking in air, he coughs violently, spewing more blood into his lap. But the demon's next words make his breath catch in his throat once again.

"He's thinking about how much he loves you. Well, really, how much he loved you." Dean can't help but glance up. Staring down at him is his Cas. Well, at least it looks like him enough to make his heart jump in his chest. But, slowly, he realizes that he may never truly see his Cas again.

"How did you not notice, Dean? All those looks. All those missed chances. It's sad, really, how oblivious you both were. I can even see how great your, what does he call it? Your 'profound bond' is?" Dean glares at him, not wanting to hear anything else about Cas from that black-eyed bastard. It only laughs.

"Anyways, it's such a tragedy, tearing you two apart before you get a chance to share these wonderful feelings. But I can't say that I'm not pleased to be in the middle of it." The demon starts pacing around the room and Dean hopes to God that it's finished. He doesn't know how much more of this he can take. Honestly, he'd rather it get back to the physical torture than keep talking.

"Of course, he doesn't love you anymore," it continues. "Not nearly. He hates you. I can-" It laughs, shaking its head slowly. "I can feel the anger boiling inside of him. It's perfectly delicious." Dean purses his lips, trying to block out the words. Demons do lie, right? This could all be made up. Cas might not even be awake right now. But deep down, Dean knows he's wrong.

"It's your fault, you know." The words that he hears far too often from his own mind grab his attention. "It's your fault that he's trapped in here. If only you hadn't run ahead of him in the halls, or if you'd checked to make sure he was wearing that charm, or if you'd let him stay back at the motel, or if you'd simply never met him at all, he'd be up with the rest of those feathery dicks living the holy life he's always dreamed of. He'd be happy." The demon smiles sadly and shrugs.

"Oh, well. The past is in the past. But the present… Now that's what I live for." Its grin grows wider and more menacing as it steps over to Dean, stooping down and grabbing his face, tilting it up and giving him no choice but to see the image of the man he loves staring back.

"He's trapped in here, you know, screaming, terrified. But, even after everything you've done, he still counts on you to save him." The demon glances away for a moment, as if he heard something. But the vicious grin returns seconds later.

"Oh, yes, Castiel, I read you loud and clear. Save me, Dean, he says. You're the reason I'm in here!" The demon mimics Cas' cries perfectly.

"This is your fault, so fix it!" It leans in closer, volume growing with every word.

"I trusted you and you betrayed me! You're leaving me to rot in here!" The screams echo off the walls.

"How could you? After everything I've done for you? Get me out of here! Save me, Dean! Help me! Save me!"

Finally, Dean snaps.

"Get out of him, you fucking bastard!" His strained voice rips through the room. The ropes rub his skin raw as he tugs against them, rage welling up inside. "If I ever get out of this chair, I will slaughter you!" Rage-filled tears spill and mix with the sweat and blood that has gathered on his face.

"Oh, Dean, you're so adorable when you're angry."

"Shut up, you son of a bitch."

"Really? More name calling? I thought we were past that."

Dean holds his tongue, fuming, not wanting to give the vexatious bitch any more fuel. It only smirks and picks up its knife. "Well, this has been fun, but…"

Trailing off, the demon walks over slowly, and Dean knows his life is almost over. He's going to die. He'll never see Sam again. He'll never be able to talk to his Cas again. He'll never get the chance to beg forgiveness for everything he's ever done to the people he loves, something he wishes he had done a long time ago. There are no more second chances for him. Not anymore. He's leaving Cas to succumb to the agonizing fate that he caused. At the last second, with the demon leering over him, he's almost glad to die now. Because if he ended up surviving and Cas didn't, he wouldn't be able to live with himself.

The knife is thrust towards him, and Dean awaits the blade sinking into his chest. But it doesn't come. Instead, it slides besides his wrist, severing the ropes. Dean is too shocked to move as the other bindings are released. The demon's pointed laugh snaps him out of his trance.

"Oh, Dean, you really thought I was finished with you." He's yanked up roughly by the arm and stumbles forward, the room spinning around him. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, but the fun isn't over yet."

Dean steadies himself and puts a hand to his head, grimacing. The sudden movement kick starts its throbbing.

"Why the hell-"

"Would I let you out? It's quite simple." The demon turns away, placing its knife back on the table top. "It's time for you to fight back." Dean just stares at it, confused. Was it really giving him a chance to get out of this?

"Fight back?" he asked skeptically. The demon sighs and spins around, facing him.

"You know, throw a few punches and let off some steam before I kill you?" There's a pause.

"What if- what if I win?" Dean remarks, crossing his arms. It laughs lightly.

"Oh, I'm confident that you won't…" He shakes his head, smirking halfheartedly, and ignores the comment.

"What in hell makes you think that I-"

The demon flings out its arm and Dean flies backwards, slamming into the concrete wall and crumpling to the floor. He groans, pushing himself off of the ground with trembling arms and collapses backwards. A fresh wave of blood has started trickling down his face and he wipes it away with his arm, shutting his eyes. The only thing he can think about is how badly he wants to give up. His body aches all over and parts of his face have gone numb. Hearing footsteps, Dean hoists himself up, knowing the demon won't let him quit.

"Are you ready to do as you're told?"

"Please, just-" Its palm smacks him across his face and he stumbles back into the wall. Rage and instinct boil up inside of him and he spins back around, fist raised and ready to strike. But when he peers down at the figure in front of him, he doesn't see the manipulative bastard that's inside. He just sees Cas. Sure, he's wanted to punch the guy on multiple occasions but now… His fist releases slowly and falls to the side, anger draining out of him.

"Well, well, well Mr. Winchester, I am thoroughly disappointed." Dean averts his eyes, trying to keep the rage at bay. "For such a 'great' hunter, you sure are weak. Oh, but what would your dear ol' dad say?" His spine reflexively straightens at the mention of John.

"The infamous John Winchester, yeah I know him." It continues, smirking. "Well, I know of him, at least. It's quite the legend. He raised his boys like soldiers, taking them on the road, teaching them to fight. After all he did for you, all he taught you, this is how you repay him? By cowering to a demon?" Dean grits his teeth and looks up, eyes shooting daggers. "Because that's what you are, Dean. A coward. Sure, you've gotten lucky on a few occasions, but in the end you don't deliver. You're really all bark and no-"

Dean's fist flies up and bashes the demon across the face. The body stumbles backwards but quickly straightens up, laughing.

"There we go," it sneers as blood drips out of its nose. But Dean doesn't hear. He cries out in fury and swings again, connecting with its jaw and knocking it back against the wall behind them. Pummeling in on the figure, he tries to push thoughts about Cas out of his mind. But they slowly creep back in. When the punches slow and hit halfheartedly, the demon shoves him off. He's knocked back into the metal chair and kicked him brutally in the ribs. Dean falls to the floor, doubled over, clutching his chest.

"Maybe you're not as weak as I thought…" the demon comments absentmindedly. It stoops and flips him onto his back, smirking.

"Oh, Dean, I think your boyfriend has a few parting gifts for you before you die." Before he can even wonder what that means, the demon stand up and kicks him hard in the stomach.

"This is for dragging him here today." Its foot connects again, making Dean gasp and cough up blood.

"This is for getting him kicked out of the only home he's ever known." The next kick hits his ribs and something cracks, sending waves of pain up his chest.

"This is for trailing him around like your slave and blaming him for everything that goes wrong." A strike to stomach the makes him groan and shut his eyes tightly.

"And this…" The demon kicks him three times, in quick succession, and continues. "This is for never realizing that everything he did, abandoning his home, his family, and risking his life every single day, it was all for you." A final blow hits hard in the soft spot between his ribs.

Finally, the demon walks away, chuckling to itself. Dean's body aches for the air that's been knocked out of it and his chest feels like it's about to collapse. But the demon's words hurt him more. A few tears rolls down his face, pooling on the ground, because he believes that everything it said is true. Cas gave up everything for him, and this is how he is repaying him. By leaving him to die at the hands of a demon. Dean knows that he deserves every hit he's taken in this room, and so many more. Opening his eyes slowly, he sees sneakers standing in front of him, and is dragged up roughly by the arm.

"Is there anything else you want to say?" the demon asks. He just shakes his head, struggling to stand on his own. "Then I have no more use for you." It flicks its wrist and Dean flies backwards into the wall again. But instead of collapsing like before, he sticks to the concrete is lifted a few feet off the ground. The demons strides over to him, smirking.

"Like I said earlier, it's been fun. But sadly, all things must come to an end." Its fingers start to clench, causing Dean's throat constrict, and panic sets in. He gasps for air and strains weakly against the hold, face reddening as the demon continues.

"Again, thanks for the free meat suit. Ones as good as this are extremely hard to find." It grins maliciously, twisting its fist tighter, and Dean's throat closes off completely. As his vision starts to blacken, he stops fighting, realizing there is no escaping this fate.

Suddenly, the sound of splintering wood cracks through the room, followed by a deafening bang. With the little strength he has left, he glances towards the noise and sees Sam's figure filling the doorway.

"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas…" The demon flinches and its grasp on Dean is momentarily released. And he's ready when it does.

A fresh wave of adrenalin floods him as he charges the demon, knocking them both backwards. It crashes into the wall, flailing violently as the exorcism continues. While holding the body down, Dean grabs the anti-possession charm out of the trench coat pocket and works the string around its neck. The demon cries out, arching its back and kicking the table beside them. The weapons clatter to the floor. Dean snatches his flask before it slides too far and unscrews the cap with one hand, dumping the water onto the face beneath him. The liquid sizzles and smokes as the demon hisses, trying to shove his body off. But, somehow, Dean is stronger.

"…te rogamus, audi nos!" The figure underneath him tenses up and cries out as thick, black smoke is shoots from its mouth, collecting in the air. It swirls around for a moment, then slowly sinks into the floor. Finally, there is silence.

Dean collapses against the wall, breathing hard as the ache settles back into his body. But after a few moments, he feels like something is wrong and glances back down at the floor. Cas is lying there, eyes closer, face bloody and unresponsive. Panic claws at Dean's stomach. Pressing two fingers to Cas' neck, he feels a faint pulse, but realizes that his chest is still.

"No, no, no…" he mutters to himself, lifting the man's head into his arms.

"Sam, come 'ere, he's not breathing!" he yells. But the other hunter is already kneeling down next to him, unnoticed.

"Dean, calm down, just-"

"God dammit, Cas, wake up!" Hot tears spill over his cheeks as he shakes the body in his arms, dread settling over him.

Suddenly, Cas' eyes snap open and he gasps for breath. Dean stares in shock as he sits up, coughing violently.

"C-Cas?" The man slowly glances around as his chest heaves. When his eyes settle on the person beside him, his face fills with sorrow.

"Dean… Oh god, Dean, I'm so sorry," he chokes out, before falling into the hunter's arms. Dean clutches him, pulling his angel closer, as if he would disappear at any moment. Taking a deep breath, he closes his eyes and rests his chin on Cas' shoulder, letting a calm settle over him.

"S'okay, Cas, I got you," he croons softly when he feels the body shaking in his arms. "It's over now. You're safe."

During all of this, Sam watches, standing a few feet away and having no clue about what had happened. After a few moments, Cas pulls away, taking in Dean's injuries. He touches his swollen jaw tenderly and Dean grimaces.

"Dean, I'm so sorry I-"

"Cas, don' worry about it, I'm fine," he replies, smiling weakly. "Let's just get outta here before…" He tries to get up on his own but stumbles, falling into the wall and letting out a groan. Cas rushes to scoop him back up, wrapping one arm around his waist. "Before those sons 'a bitches come back." Cas nods and, after Sam grabs the weapons that had spilled onto the floor, they make their way out of the room.

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Dean insists that he's alright as the trio makes their way out of the building and back to the Impala. But the state of him says otherwise. His light brown hair is crusted with dried blood and matted down, parts of his face are already turning black and blue, and his jaw is red and swollen. He staggers as they walk, keeping one arm around Cas the whole time, and finally accepts both of their help when he almost trips over a loose floor tile. When they reach the Impala, he doesn't even put up a fight and collapses into the back seat, letting Sam drive. Cas slides in next to the injured hunter without hesitation.

On the way home, Sam doesn't dare ask what happened. The men look thoroughly beat up and completely dazed in the rear-view mirror. Whatever had gone on, it must have been hell for them both. He'd ask later, when he got one of them alone.

Within minutes of starting the car, Dean passes out from exhaustion, leaning heavily against Cas, who's squeezed up against the door. But Cas doesn't object. He just stares out the window, trying not to dwell on the fact that he caused all this. How could he have been so stupid? His mistake had almost killed the one thing he cares about most in the world. Closing his eyes and leaning against the window, he tries to block out everything but the feeling of Dean's head on his shoulder.

Back at the hotel, Sam goes in first, distracting anyone who is in the lobby. This gives Cas enough time to help Dean up the their room unseen. There, the three men settle in quickly. Dean confines himself to the couch after allowing Sam to clean him up and sleeps through most of the day. Cas takes a seat at the kitchen table, staying quiet and offering up no explanation as to what had gone on earlier. Sam sits across from him and eventually explains how he took care of the demons on the ground floor pretty easily and spent the rest time searching for them, only discovering their location when he heard shouts coming from one of the old storage rooms in the basement. When Cas simply nods in reply, he pauses, hesitant to finally ask the question that's been bugging him for hours.

"Cas, what happened back there?" He fidgets in his chair for a moment before answering.

"I-I was possessed."

"Yeah, I kinda figured, but how? You had the charm!"

"I forgot to put it on," he mumbles.

"Oh…" There was a long pause before Cas spoke again, his voice hoarse and raw with emotion.

"I tortured him, Sam… I was awake and I saw and I couldn't stop it. The demon used me, my thoughts and my feelings, against him and made me do horrible things." His eyes burn with tears and he swallows hard before continuing. "I would have killed him if it weren't for you."

"Cas, I-I'm so sorry."

"Don't apologize to me, Sam." He takes a shaky breath. "It was my fault."

"But-"

"If it's okay with you, I'd rather not talk about this anymore."

"Oh… Yeah, okay. That's fine." After a few seconds of silence, Sam flips open his laptop reluctantly, settling in for a long evening of mindless research.

Later in the evening, Dean wakes up and staggers into the kitchen, grabbing a beer. When Sam notices that his swelling has gone down quite a bit, he attempts to make small talk.

"How you feeling?"

"Fan-friggin'-tastic, Sammy," he replies sarcastically, slamming the refrigerator door. The conversation is quickly abandoned.

Cas and Dean's eyes meet for only a moment after that. They both know there's no ignoring what had happened. That would be impossible. But neither one makes a move to discuss it. Hours pass in silence and, finally, Cas can't wait any longer.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Can I talk to you?" Cas' voice pulls Dean back to the present. He'd been slouching on the couch, staring off into space for who know how long.

"What's up?" Cas sits down beside him, his face illuminated by the glow of the T.V. screen, and looks down at his hands.

"I'm-I'm sorry for today… I should have listened to you and put the charm on as soon as you handed it to me."

"Cas, don't apologize," he replies, smiling weakly. "You made a mistake, which sucks, but it's over now."

"But-"

"You said it yourself," he continues, hesitatingly, not wanting to dwell on the events of the day, "it was my fault, not yours. You have the right to hate me." Glancing at Cas, he sees the man frowning at him, displeased.

"Not everything the demon said is true, Dean..."

Silence fills the space between their gaze and Dean swallows hard. He's desperate to know about the other things that had been revealed that day, but can't bring himself to ask. And even if he did work up enough courage, how would he react? What would he say if Cas really did love him? The silence is broken when Sam pops his head into the room.

"I, uh…" He pauses, seeing that he interrupted something. "I'm gonna go to bed, guys."

"'Night, Sammy," Dean replies, thankful for the interruption. Sam smiles slightly and nods his head, leaving them alone once more.

After a moment, Dean speaks up, trying to brush off the rest of the conversation.

"Anyways, it was my fault, whether you think so or not, and I'm sorry." Crossing his arms, he leans back into the couch, wishing the conversation would end. But he realizes that he has so much more to say.

"I shoulda known better than to make you hunt today. It was a dick move of me. And-and then I couldn't even save you when I screwed it up!" He laughs uncomfortably, running his hands through his hair as the self-hatred rises up again.

"If Sam hadn't shown… I mean, we woulda been goners."

Cas gazes down at him sadly, wishing Dean would think better of himself. But, of course, he doesn't, and finds himself rambling on.

"I know what that bastard said, about me tearing you away from your home and never realizing how much you did for me, I know that's true. And I'm sorry. I am so friggin' sorry. I would take it all back if I could. Today and every other god damn time that I've hurt you. I almost-"

"I wouldn't." Dean glances up at the man sitting beside him. "I'm happier here, now, with you, than I ever was before. Dean, I don't regret any of it." He stares up at his angel, a smile playing at his lips, and absentmindedly mutters the last thing he had wanted to say.

"I almost wish it had killed me before it got to you, ya know? So you could've had a chance to get out of there." Suddenly, Cas' face lights up with anger.

"How can you have so little self-worth?" he snaps. Dean silences himself and retreats back into his shell, annoyed. He's grown tired of people trying to counsel him about this.

"God dammit, I'm not talking about this. Can we just drop it?"

"No, we can't." Cas moves towards him but he turns away.

"I didn't-"

"And don't try to convince me that I got the worst of what happened today, because you and I both know that's not true." Jaw clenched, he shakes his head, trying to block out the words.

"Dean, please…" Cas reaches out and grabs his arm, and Dean's breath catches in his throat. His body relaxes at the touch and something shifts. Sure, he and Cas have touched many times before, but this time it feels different. And as cheesy as it sounds, Dean has to admit that something clicks. Anger and annoyance gone, he glances up, returning the gaze.

"You've been through more in the past few years than any man should go through in a lifetime," Cas continues softly. "I know that stubbornness is a prevalent part of your personality, but you have to acknowledge that you need help. You're… you're broken. If-"

"Then fix me," he interrupts without thinking. Cas furrows his eyebrows and tilts his head, slightly confused at the sudden interjection. But instead of explaining, Dean leans forward, grabbing Cas and pulling him closer. Their lips press together roughly and Dean runs his hands down his arms and to his waist, holding him lightly. But the chaste kiss quickly turns into something more. Dean tugs at the hem of Cas' shirt, inching him further into his embrace, and searches his mouth with his tongue.

"I said fix me, Cas," he murmurs as he trails his lips along Cas' jaw and down his neck, something he's only dreamed of doing. "Fix me, help me, do whatever you want to me," he mutters absentmindedly between kisses. When Cas only nods, Dean glances up, seeing him staring, wide-eyed and nervous.

Suddenly, Dean regrets everything he just did and draws away quickly.

"I'm sorry, I thought-"

"N-no, Dean, I just… I'm not exactly sure how to do this…" He breathes a small sigh of relief and grins.

"That's okay. That's totally fine." He leans forward and kisses him again, sliding his hand under the shirt and along the soft skin of his lower back. "Just relax." Stubble scratches against his cheek as he kisses the man's face hungrily.

"I need you, Cas," he whispers, pulling his angel closer and running a free hand through his hair. "I don't know what I'd do without you." Cas smiles softly and relaxes, wrapping his arms around Dean's neck and finally kissing back.

A few hours later, Dean's bloody and beaten face jolts Cas awake. He untangles himself from the other man's arms and sits up, trembling violently. No matter how much he'd been trying to block out about that day, the memories flood his thoughts every time his eyes close. Dean's body shifts around on the couch, and, noticing the empty cushions beside him, he opens his eyes.

"Cas, you okay?" he asks, worry and sleep laced through his voice. When Cas doesn't reply, he sits up, concerned, and wraps an arm around him. Feeling his body trembling, he draws the man in closer.

"Bad dream?" Cas nods slowly. "Don't worry, I won't let those monsters get to you anymore. I promise." The truth in those words make him smile ever so slightly. Dean kisses the side of his head.

"It's okay, baby," he purrs, guiding Cas back down so that he's lying next to him. "I got you. I'm here." Dean rubs his back softly and the shaking subsides. But after a few minutes, Cas is still tense, fidgeting every few seconds.

Pulling him closer, he rests his chin on top of Cas' head and starts to hum "Hey, Jude", a tune he's been familiar with all his life. He starts singing lightly when he gets to the third verse.

"And anytime you feel the pain, hey Jude, refrain, don't carry the world upon your shoulders…" With that, Cas smiles and nuzzles up against his bare chest. By the end of the song, they are both nearly asleep.

"Dean?" Cas' sleepy and childlike voice makes Dean smile to himself.

"Mm hm?"

"I do…" He trails off, yawning silently and snuggling into his side. "I do love you. That part is true." Warmth spreads through Dean's body and his smile grows wider. He doesn't even attempt to fight the "chick flick" moment that's been created.

"I love you too," he answers after a moment, holding Cas closer. But the fallen angel is already fast asleep with a smile on his face, because he doesn't need to hear Dean's reply. He already knows.

As Dean drifts off to sleep, he doesn't think about the scars that were left by the events that took place. He doesn't worry about what will happen in a day, a week, a month, or even a year from now because of it and he doesn't care that Sam will find them lying together in the next morning. The only thought that fills his mind is how right it feels to have Cas in his arms. And, even after everything that happened that day, Dean's happier than he has been in a very long time.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! This is my first fic on AO3 and comments are much appreciated!


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